


Training and Preparation; A Tournament Fighter's Life

by CavannaRose



Category: Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball GT, Dragon Ball Origins, Dragon Ball Z
Genre: Gen, Training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 12:07:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6803443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CavannaRose/pseuds/CavannaRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ranfan preps for her next big tourney.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Training and Preparation; A Tournament Fighter's Life

Fighting. It was amazing how it set one's blood on fire. Sure she wasn't above flashing a little skin for advantage, and a bit of flirting could seriously hurt someone else if applied correctly, but to the surprise of many she was actually a well trained combatant. She enjoyed the fight. The pumping blood and the roar of the crowds, but mostly she enjoyed winning. Perhaps she couldn't stand against some of these aliens prancing about with their glowing hair or green skin, but against her own kind? She was in the top eight after all. The best female with two fists, and she'd be damned if she didn't glory in it.

What was the point in being one of the best if you didn't take a moment or two to crow over your victory? Those that said her ploys were cheating, well they could just go stuff themselves. Anyone who let a bit of cleavage distract them deserved to have their skulls pounded into the sand.

Contemplation was bad for the skin, gave a gal wrinkles and such. Not that bruises made things much better, but that only happened if they actually landed a hit. Putting aside the intellectualism for now, she hit the training ring, sauntering past the fellas preparing for the next big tournament. Being the only female on deck made all of this that much easier, and she added an extra sway to her hips as she went by, hooking a few of them early. Once caught, they fell so much easier when the big day came.

She stretched carefully, arching her back and limbering up for ease of movement. She bent nearly in half, wrapping her arms behind her knees and wiggling her posterior before snapping up, tossing her hair as she did so. It didn't take a genius to know she was the centre of attention now, just as she liked it. Now she'd really show the jerks who thought she was just a pretty face what she had going for her.

Jab, jab, high kick, spinning leg sweep and an uppercut right from the ground, knocking the turnip-shaped head right off the training dummy. She paused to fluff her hair and give a little giggle, turning to wink at one of the awe-struck bystanders. Dummies. How did they think she made it to the tournament if she didn't have some power behind her? Ignoring the adoring fans, as she liked to call them, she focused on her training dummy. Another succession of kicks, then she built up some friction to heat up her fist, giving her punch some extra oomph as she drove the dummy back a few steps, once, twice, three times for a lady.

Grinning she set a display of pink hearts spinning around her, display or defense? She wasn't telling anyone. She kicked the dummy again, two high, one in the middle, driving it back further before sweeping in a flip to pass her leg over where the turnip head used to sit. Sliding a few paces back, she gestured with her hands, shooting three successive hearts at the dummy and drilling a hole in it's centre.

The hearts around her turned red, rotating counterclockwise around her now, faster than before as she landed another set of spinning kicks, finally shattering the training dummy into pieces. She stood over the wreckage, hands on her hips and a pleased smile on her face, the barest hint of a sweat forming on her brow. She turned, winking saucily at one of the observers, blowing them all a kiss before sauntering back off the field. She was ready.


End file.
